between you and me
by your allegria
Summary: it's what really happened. [stan&craig love, slash]
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I'm bad because I started something new… I don't know who you kids are rooting for these days, but this is a **STAN/CRAIG. **I like them together even though it almost feels like twincest. :3

**Warning: **the gays come out to play, and it might get pretty graphic in later chapters. Also, underage drinking, drugs, sex. Offensive language. Nothing you wouldn't see in the actual show!

**Disclaimer: **it's not mine, sorry:D

**prologue**

The days were cold, but the nights were even colder. I remember every moment like it was yesterday, even though it was more than a year ago. I guess I only remember since it was around this time of year that it happened, more miserable now because he said it wasn't goodbye forever, but if he has until forever to decide to talk to me again, how long _do_ I have to wait?

Don't get me wrong, I know that I sound obsessive, but you don't really get it unless you were actually _there_, but the only other person that was there besides me, was him…

I guess I should start at the beginning.

I met Stan at one of those parties. My friend was dating his friend, and we were introduced almost by force, and automatically I knew I liked what seemed to be his normalcy. I was weird, and everyone there knew it, but Stan didn't really seem to mind as much as other people.

We quickly became good friends and hung out together more than we really should have. He told me all of his secrets, and pried me for mine. He told me all about his girlfriend, Wendy, and asked me why I didn't have one. I just shrugged it off, there was no way I was going to explain to him that I _couldn't_ get one because girls thought I was weird!

It went on that way for the longest time, and I felt relieved at finally having found a friend that I could trust and just _rely_ on. Life suddenly felt so satisfying, like I hadn't even known that I had an empty spot inside of me. It actually felt _good_.

Then one day, he kissed me.

It wasn't as if he meant to, I don't think… We were at Bebe's house for her annual Christmas party, sitting next to the Jacuzzi, drunk out of our minds and half of us freezing from the snow that littered the ground next to us. Stan was fumbling for a lighter so that he could finish smoking his joint (which kept going out because of the splashing water and the outside cold) and he suddenly dropped everything in the pool, lowering his face into his hands and sniffling hard. I had half a mind to just push him in, but I asked him what was wrong instead.

"Wendy's a fucking whore."

I raised an eyebrow. "Wendy. The same Wendy who gets straight A's and wouldn't come to this party because she's _straight edge_? THAT Wendy?"

Stan dumbly nodded, looking up at me, his face looking smushed because his hands were still vaguely holding his head up. "She didn't come to this party because she's fucking Token."

"Man, you're drunk.."

"NO! I'm serious!" Stan jumped up, standing dangerously close to the edge of the water. "I SAW them! The other night… I went over because I don't know, I just wanted to see her, but she was.. With him.."

I stood up, and carefully lead him away from the water. He let out some kind of hysterical sob and pushed onto me, but being as drunk as I was, we both fell tumbling into the water, my head grazing the first step dangerously close, and landing with a audible thunk on the second. I saw stars for a moment, and then I was flailing to get Stan off of me so i could get my head out of the water to breathe. He was still clinging to me, ranting about Wendy and how she was a whore. Oh, sorry, a _fucking_ whore.

"You would never do that to me, right?"

I stopped trying to get him off me when he said that. He stared at me with a certain clarity in him, and I shook my head, suddenly feeling my throat go dry. "Never."

And that's when he kissed me.

It was mostly sloppy, no real romance involved. My first instinct was to pull away, but the alcohol slowed my reflexes, and by the time my body got around to following what my mind was thinking, my mind was thinking something completely different. My arms wrapped around him, and pushed him back, but only so I could move forward and so we both couldn't drown. In the back of my mind, I remembered that there was a party, but I couldn't stop myself from making out with my new best friend.

My mind screamed that I was being a pervert, but that just spurred me on more, enjoying the way his tongue wrapped around mine, and the hot water around us, and how he shivered because the cold just got colder.


	2. Chapter 2

You grow up thinking that everyone has a purpose. It just feels better to believe that whatever you're doing has a purpose, a point, a reason. Someone to love. Someone to save. Someone to _become_. But some times, God forgets one of us. It's unlikely that he does it just to be spiteful. Maybe they're really the lucky ones, to pave the way for everyone else who are meant for "greater" things, by wearing that neon-green warning sign. _THIS COULD HAPPEN TO YOU!_

Well, it did.

I was the fucking warning sign of South Park. Me.

My dad had a gambling problem and went off to Mexico for months to avoid the "collectors", my mom was a waitress barely earning past the minimum wage and my sister was a retard. Obviously not a REAL retard because then calling her a retard wouldn't be considered politically correct, but somehow I don't think I'd be too surprised if people mistook her for a rock. An ugly one. I don't have any money, I don't do well in school, and I'm not nice, or considerate, or any of those positive adjectives. Parents weren't exactly clamoring to set their children a play date with me.

SO, when Stanley, All-American Boy, Football Captain, Honor Roll Student, and God really knows what else, Marsh decided that he wanted to make out with me in the middle of a Christmas party, in front of the frosted glass doors, in the middle of a Jacuzzi, drunk and high out of his mind, I didn't really feel like resisting. I thought, maybe _this _was my moment. It wasn't that much of a moment, but maybe, this was _my_ moment.

I couldn't explain how I felt in that moment as much as I could explain how an spaceship works. (Which I really can't, if you don't believe me, ask my science teacher. From the FOURTH grade.) I felt flattered, that he would even consider being my friend, to even being attracted to me in _that_ way. I felt insulted, did he think I was gay? Was I too effeminate? Did he think I was just a whore to lead around like that? I felt stupid, because I couldn't say no. I felt _scared. _Worried. Nervous. Anxious. What happens after, what happens if he tells everyone? What happens if he doesn't like me anymore?

What happens if this is the end?

I broke away and I gave him a long look. He stared back, half aware of what was really happening, his blue eyes looking me over distantly. It always struck me as odd how much he looked like me. It was like he was me, except better. I felt cheated. We could have so easily been each other. He half smiled and leaned in again, but the door slid open, Kyle's red head poking through. I hurriedly pushed Stan away. He opened his mouth to possibly explode into another long rant, but stopped.

"Umm, what are you guys doing?"

I shrugged half heartedly, catching the other boy before he fell into the water again.

Kyle rolled his eyes. "Never mind. Is he conscious? I need to get home because Ike can't go to sleep unless I read him a bedtime story. Geniuses and their OCD, right?"

"Yeah, he's awake. …I think?"

"Cool, can you bring him out front? Like, change him or something. I think Bebe has some of her dad's clothes around you can borrow. I don't want him freezing, you know? Hypothermia and everything… It's winter all the fucking time around here. Hey, you need a ride?"

I blinked and shook my head. "No thanks."

"Awesome, dude. Thanks! Just hurry though, I've got to warm up the car." He disappeared back into the crowd of noisy teenagers, and shut the door. I looked back over to my friend, who looked half dead floating along with the Jacuzzi bubbles. I sighed and started to lug him out, surprised at how light he was despite playing so many damn sports. I scoffed. I was around the same size, maybe _I_ could be team captain of something next year.

Stan mumbled something under his breath. I leaned forward.

"What?"

"…Kyle. Good friend."

"Um, yeah. Ooookay.. Let's change so that you don't die out in the cold, okay?"

"I'm tired."

"Wow, an actual sentence. Good, Stan. Good."

The crowd of people parted like a wave when they saw that we were wet and dripping everywhere. Bebe gave me a look of half disgust and half concern as she stepped over. "Omigosh! What happened, are you guys okay? Why are you all _wet_?"

"We accidentally fell into the Jacuzzi."

"You're lucky it wasn't the swimming pool, otherwise you guys would be like dead or something."

"I know. Thanks. You got any clothes?"

"Clothes?"

"For Stan? Like your dad's clothes or anything that would fit him?"

"Well, my parents lock their bedroom when I have parties because kids try to go up and have sex in there, but like I could try and find you something of mine that might fit. I used to be really fat in middle school. Actually, you were there, weren't you?"

"Yeah. I've known you since elementary."

"Oh. Cool. Anyway, like just follow me, and I'll find you something, kay? You can use my room if you want, but like, don't do anything weird in there, okay?" She adjusted her tube top as she climbed up the stairs, and I woke Stan enough to get him to lumber after me.

Her room was too bright, and had way too many stuffed animals for her age. Bebe was digging through her closet, pulling out lots of what looked like decorated shoe boxes. She frowned. "That's weird, I know I had them here somewhere…"

"Had what?"

"My old sweaters and stuff. I can't find - oh!" She bit her lip. "Oh.. Um, Craig, these are like the only things I have from… Back then." She held up a brown sweater and a paisley skirt, grinning apologetically.

I laughed. "You're kidding."

She shook her head. "Sorry. The only other thing I have is a miniskirt, and well…"

I glanced over at Stan, who was propped up on a chair near the vanity, and I sighed. "Okay, let's get this over with."

Bebe tried not to laugh as she started to walk towards the door. "Have fun!"

I stood next to Stan wondering how this was going to work. It felt weird. It probably would have been fine had we not made out less than thirty minutes ago, but I didn't really have a chance to think about it. Not when Kyle was waiting outside. Not when Stan had a chance of sobering up and remembering what had just happened. I lifted his shirt and pulled it over his head, instructing him when to move his arms. That was the easy part.

I counted backwards from ten before even reaching down to touch his zipper. I had the button undone, and the feeling that maybe this wasn't going to be so bad when I felt Stan grab my hand and give me what possibly could have been his bedroom eyes. "Ask me first."

"Stan, I'm just trying to get you home, okay? You're wet. You have to change."

He grinned and just tried to kiss me. I pushed him off.

A pout. "Why don't you like me?"

"I do! But not right now, okay?" I reached for his pants and tugged again. This time getting the zipper down halfway before he reached out for me, and made me crack my skull open with his.

We both yelped out of surprise and pain and I landed on the floor with a loud thud.

"Are you crazy!"

Stan laughed. That crazy motherfucker laughs. As if this is funny. He's not the one who everyone's going to call GAY tomorrow, because everyone is going to think that it was me. "CRAIG NOMMEL TURNED STAN MARSH", they'll say. Of course he'll go along with it, oh, yes, Craig raped me, he'll say, I tried so hard to resist, but Craig tied me up, and-

I looked up at a crash to see Stan knocking over perfume bottles as he succeeded in pulling off his pants, reaching for the rim of his boxers. "Stop! Those can stay on!" He smiled lazily as I handed him the skirt.

"A skirt?" He gave me a confused look.

"It's all we have."

"I'm not. No."

"You'll DIE out there."

"Dude, no!" He frantically shook his head. "No!"

"Please, Stan, I just want to get this over with. It's weird that we're even having this conversation. It's weird. Just put it on, and you can go home and take it off, okay?"

"NO!"

"PUT IT ON NOW!"

Stan gave me a surly look but I was satisfied with the fact that he regressed into a child when drunk because he did unzip the sides of the skirt as he awkwardly maneuvered his way into it. It almost reached his knee, but the side wouldn't zip up all the way. I tried to give him my most severe look as I told him to put on the sweater, and half wondered if this was even worth it if he was half naked anyway. Bebe may have been "fat" in middle school, but she had been definitely smaller than a junior male in high school.

I nearly bit my tongue bloody trying not to laugh, as I led him out the back door and into the safety of Kyle's car.

"Dude, what the fuck is he wearing?"

"Bebe's old clothes. Long story. Here's his wet clothes." I handed the speechless redhead a plastic bag. Looking like he wanted to ask more questions, but deciding against it, he nodded and waved at me as he pulled out of the driveway.

It was only when they were gone that I realized that I was wet and didn't have dried clothes.

Warning sign's mission of the day: Warn others not to drink and smoke near the Jacuzzi with a friend who obviously doesn't have a set sexuality, and who's emotionally distraught, especially if there's high risk of being molested along the way.

Mission: Complete.


End file.
